


xxvi; Courtyard Chat

by Theo_Thaur



Series: 31 Days of TUA Whump [26]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Confused Luther Hargreeves, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Luther Hargreeves-centric, One Shot, Pre-Canon, Soft Luther Hargreeves, Teen Years, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:01:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27286855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theo_Thaur/pseuds/Theo_Thaur
Summary: Whumptober 2020 submission. No 26. "IF YOU THOUGHT THE HEAD TRAUMA WAS BAD…": Migraine, Concussion, Blindness.-----Klaus decides to smoke by a very concussed Luther, following a mission. They talk, for once. It's kind of nice.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves
Series: 31 Days of TUA Whump [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951234
Kudos: 18
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	xxvi; Courtyard Chat

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGERS: nausea, drug/alcohol references, implied abusive Reginald Hargreeves.

_xxvi; Courtyard Chat_

"Bet you five bucks to open the car door," a voice said.

"That's not how a bet works," another replied.

Someone laughed. A seatbelt clicked. A door slammed shut. There was a firm rapping next to him, which startled Luther up. He'd been leaning precariously close to the vibrations of the car window, asleep for who knew how long. Blinking away sunlight, his vision was spotty, he had a hard time focusing his eyes. Five stood by the window, Diego a few feet behind him. Releasing his seatbelt, Luther opened the door and stumbled out of the car. No doubt the knocking hadn't helped, he felt like his head was spitting open. Was it? Luther suddenly clutched the sides of his head, worried the space near his temples might've been cleaved open --everyone was in their mission suits. He felt up his scalp, noticing nothing out of place, but continuing to dig his fingers against the mounting pressure.

"Number One, come," Reginald ordered. At some point Luther had stopped looking up, staring down at the concrete because it wasn't blurry, nor was it bright like the sky. He tore his eyes away, trying to comply, and catch up with everyone else, who was already halfway up the steps. 

"What's going on?" He asked in a slurred and muffled voice, moving his hands away from his head to shield his eyes from the afternoon sun. Luther headed up the back of the line as they all filtered into the front entrance of the academy. Grace and Pogo stood near the main staircase as per usual, to greet them. But honestly, he couldn't remember having gone to any mission. The light wasn't so bad inside, he looked around at everyone else. Five had a bit of coal or dirt smudged on his hands and face, Ben was bloodied as usual, and Allison looked like her knee was scraped. They'd surely been doing something.

Reginald decided to treat Luther's open question to an answer, "I would consider it 'concentric failure'," he informed. Luther looked away, not just because of the lights. "You developed a migraine during the mission." He didn't comment, embarrassed and feeling sick.

"You'd never catch me doing that. Mind's like a steel trap," Diego said, which went ignored as Reginald stepped off in the direction of his office unceremoniously. Pogo, after assuring everyone was still alive and well, turned off --probably to go to the library. Grace gently nudged Ben in the direction of the stairs, probably to draw him a bath so Ben could wash the drying blood from his skin --by this point, Ben's car seat had plastic commonly laid over it to avoid dirtying the nice interior. 

"Do you really not remember what happened?" Allison asked, sounding concerned, which caused the remaining members of the academy to not follow Ben up, preferring to listen to Luther's answer in the foyer. Luther frowned, peeling off his domino mask and looking down at it.

"No, no I uhh… I don't," he said, still feeling frazzled and trying to avoid how much his head hurt. 

Five stepped forward. "Well, I hate to call it, but you are concussed," he said, patting Luther on the back. The touch caught him off guard and made his legs feel weak.

"Don't touch me! And I don't remember what caused… all this," Luther muttered, peering up at Five, who nodded.

"My point exactly," he said.

"Wait hold on," Diego said. All the voices in the room were making him dizzy so Luther closed his eyes. "So he's having a concussion and a migraine? That's, shit that's uh… bangin'. Right." 

"Not so loud," Luther warned, though a shell of his usual authoritative voice and ignoring that Diego was apparently enjoying that Luther had a headache.

"Heyyy that's my line," Klaus said. He held his hand up for a high five with Luther that wasn't returned. "When I'm--"

"When you're hung over. We know," Allison cut Klaus off. "I'll get mom once she's done checking up on Ben. She'll know what to do."

"My guess is, when you go around like a bozo headbutting every crony in a five foot radius, that sets you up for _brain problems_ , okay Luth? Take it easy," Five sighed. 

"I… don't remember doing that," Luther countered.

"Yeah, well, you did." He was having a hard time seeing, but he imagined Five putting his hands up on the top of his shorts, where belt loops would be. "Just as strong but even more stupid," Five noted, chuckling, "I guess your skull isn't as thick as I thought though, if it didn't keep you from giving yourself TBI."

"Knock it off," Allison said with a sigh. Luther opened his eyes to watch her head upstairs, followed by Diego and Five not much after, although Diego looked over his shoulder to grin smugly. 

"Guess that leaves me," Klaus said, who'd oddly sat most of the conversation out. Luther had forgotten he'd been there. 

"... No it doesn't," Luther replied after a moment. "Going outside now. It smells like bleach in here." He followed through, peeling off down the hall before navigating clumsily into the courtyard. Luther sunk down against the cool brick, ignoring how the weeds pricked at his skin. There was some shadow thanks to the walls of the academy. His mind was hazy, he hoped Grace would come soon and give him something to take, although he'd walked off from the last place anyone had seen him. Not his brightest plan. But there was so much talking and there'd just be more as everyone settled down after the mission to get to whatever was scheduled. He hoped Reginald wouldn't be too mad with him for ditching, but for once that was a fear that lived outside of the scope of what Luther cared about. He just kept his eyes closed and would alternatingly press the side of his head against the mostly smooth old bricks, to try and numb the pain a little. Reginald kept anesthesia under tight hold, for everyone except Vanya he usually preferred they 'grit their teeth and suffer the consequences.' It took being really sick to constitute a carefully measured dosage, which was administered by Grace. Diego had gotten into a fair share of trouble because of his risk-taking, isolated style on missions, and he was most often soured by the way Reginald conserved painkillers. Luther tried to think about specifics from the mission, but gave up pretty quickly.

He heard leaves crunch, and opened his eyes to see his vision even spottier, as a zap of pain went through him. Hiding from that, he quickly blocked out the light by squeezing his eyes shut before he knew what it was. Even trying to check who was there seemed like too much. Franky, Luther didn't know how he'd made it all the way to the courtyard.

"Aah, there you went. Don't mind me, just here to smoke," Klaus said, but he sounded awfully close, either by virtue of every sound being magnified, or because he was actually close. Luther shied away from pressing either side of his head against the wall, holding his head in his hands again. 

"...Be quiet," he finally managed, which still upset the throbbing in his head. Klaus didn't say anything, but Luther heard a weird scraping noise to his right, which was the general direction Klaus had settled down in. He heard Klaus breathe in almost like he wanted to say something important, before blowing out. Luther wrinkled his nose, clasping a hand over his sinuses and shaking his head. "You know I came out here because the house smelled like bleach."

"Yeah I heard you the first time. I thought, 'wow, he must really be sick because he loves cleaning-related stuff', and not in the way where you pretend you're cleaning but you're actually just huffing varnish remover," Klaus answered.

Luther was quiet for a long time, trying to process. "I meant… stop smoking." Klaus didn't say anything, and he felt suddenly impatient and angry. "Stop that right now!" he demanded, too loud for even himself, but committed to not open his eyes just to yell at Klaus. He almost immediately stilled again, seeing stars and plaid in the blackness in his eyes, ever shifting in dark hues, almost like the dull flashing of a camera. Luther rolled his head against the wall, groaning. The smell of cigarette smoke was messing with him and he'd get up if he thought he could. There was a sigh, and then a quiet sizzle as Klaus put it out --probably on the academy wall. There was quiet for a long time. Luther felt sort of bad, despite going through a migraine which was without argument worse. "Sorry," he said quietly. Leaders owned up to their mistakes even when it was hard, even when they didn't really feel like it.

"It's alright," Klaus replied. He sounded preoccupied, voice more serious. He chuckled a little, injecting more humor into his tone when he added, "I don't blame you for snapping. You looked like you swallowed a pineapple in the hall. Can't really see you right now, since you're holding your head and all that… But I mean, spikes and all, right down your throat out there." Luther couldn't decipher any of that and thinking about consuming food wasn't helping the churning in his stomach either. Something occurred to him which hadn't right away, Klaus had quieted down after Luther had asked him to, adjusting and being soft-spoken, making his heart hurt a little less. It was a weird compromise that let them stay in the same courtyard rather than one of them having to go inside, up to the roof or the greenhouse or whatever else would hide them. Klaus was a strange guy, but maybe because Luther was used to fighting with Diego and caring for Allison. Luther didn't know what to call Klaus, other than a brother, as Reginald would have it, or a member of the team. They didn't talk often, the house was just so full it was hard to have a working relationship with everyone, especially considering Klaus' truancy.

He turned to face the direction he assessed Klaus was in, opened his eyes to see absolutely nothing. Luther rubbed at his eyes, blinked, squinted, but there was just darkness. "I-I can't see??" he announced, bracing a hand up against the wall, halfway attempting to stand before giving up.

"Oh," Klaus replied. "So?"

"...So what?!" Luther asked, slurring his voice and looking around desperately, up into the sky to try and find the sun, hoping that of all things would be powerful enough to revive his vision.

"It'll probably go away. Your head's all messed up right now," he said. 

"Wha-- you think so?" Luther asked, voice even quieter than usual. Klaus paused.

"I know so." Luther smiled a little, nodding.

"...Okay."

They stayed like that for a little while. Klaus never tried to light another cigarette, Luther didn't know what to say and was distracted away from fumbling for conversation starters by the varying degrees of pain he felt throbbing against his skull. 

"You… you like me, right?" Luther found himself asking eventually, in spite of himself. He stumbled over his words and finished the short sentence wondering why he'd decided to ask.

Klaus laughed softly. "Why?" Luther shrugged a little, embarrassed.

"Just wanted to know," he murmured, almost under his breath.

Klaus was quiet for a very long time, he thought that was the end of the discussion. Luther nearly forgot his question when it was finally answered. "... Yeah, Luth. You're not too bad. Just don't say anything about Reginald."

"Why can't I talk about dad?" he asked slowly.

Klaus sighed.

Forgetting he'd asked, Luther said, "what's wrong about dad?"

"You get a pass because you're concussed." Klaus sounded a little annoyed, but there was an edge to his words, begrudging yes, envious of the treatment Luther had received, but mournful as well. Maybe it had been supposed to sound like a funny quip. He heard a cap unscrew, and then the sound a bottle of liquid made as it was emptying, bubbles moving up to the top. It stopped, the liquid sloshing around in a bottle.

"I can smell the whiskey…" Luther commented.

"Christ, chillax. Didn't know you're a bloodhound now. Gonna sniff me for drugs next?"

He sighed. "... Did you steal that from dad?"

"I'm offended you'd think that," Klaus replied. "I can manage perfectly well on my own bribing strangers and stealing from stores, like the rest of the world, thank you very much! Don't need handouts from pops. ...But yeah this happens to be his."

"Klaus!" Luther hissed.

"Can you see yet?" he asked. Luther opened his eyes, trying to, but still nothing. It was still distressing but he fought to not make as big of a deal. Pain was one thing, although Luther hated showing it to Diego or Reginald especially, and felt it made him look like a bad leader. Fear was something even worse than pain, though. He never wanted to look afraid, he would always attempt to be ready to lead with courage.

"I can't see," he answered, resigning and closing his eyes again. It felt more natural to keep his eyes closed, though either way he was blinded.

"Great. Then you've got deniability," there were more sounds of liquid sloshing and Luther assumed Klaus was helping himself to more.

"But I have to tell da--"

"Sh. Be cool for once in your life and don't go there, you're ruining the moment," he answered. "...Right I forgot, you can't see, but I'm holding my hand out towards you right now. Talk to the hand."

"I don't know what that means…?" There was dead silence for a while.

"I nearly forgot, I snuck you an ice pack. Obviously I can get into all the stuff in the infirmary," something cold nudged against Luther's hand, he was able to take it, and press it against his head.

"Uh, thanks…" Luther replied.

"Yeah. Figured I'd use my talents for good. Maybe this will appease you so you won't rat me out to Reginald," Klaus sounded faintly nervous, at least Luther thought so? He wouldn't look into it, just glad for the relief.

"...You're good also. I just wish you'd work harder, but I like you I think," Luther said, after taking a moment to just enjoy the cold ice pack. It numbed the pain much better than the brick wall.

"Well, you know what they say. Luther goes to Jupiter to get more stupider," Klaus commented. Luther didn't see the connection between that and his compliment towards Klaus, was he saying that he thought Luther was stupid for seeing good in him?

"They're saying that?" Luther asked instead. He'd get to the other stuff later if he didn't forget…

"Ah, fuck, mom's coming," there was the shifting of fabric, perhaps Klaus trying to conceal the stolen alcohol. "Peace out, Spaceboy," he whispered, the leaves crunching as he stood.


End file.
